


with the warmth of your arms you saved me

by w0lfmoon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:25:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w0lfmoon/pseuds/w0lfmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A piece I submitted to the dirty supernatural tumblr // a Crowley/Reader fix set to HIM's Killing Loneliness</p>
            </blockquote>





	with the warmth of your arms you saved me

**Author's Note:**

> TW: language, mention of sex (no actual smut) blood, addiction, syringes, just so you know what to expect.

with the warmth of your arms, you saved me

summary: Crowley is in the midst of his blood addiction, and the only one that can save him is a hunter named Y/N. Based on the song "Killing Loneliness" by HIM.

 

Memories, sharp as daggers

Pierce into the flesh of today

Crowley, proclaimed King of Hell, winced as the needle broke through the flesh of his vessel's skin, but he soon became limp as he felt the warmth of the human blood began to surge through him. Not long after, he soon felt…emotional and started to weep, for reasons still mostly unknown to him because as a demon, he had gave up the right to emotions long ago, that is until Sam Winchester decided to inject the bloody drug into his system as part of the (incomplete) trials to seal the gates of hell forever. Crowley scowled as he thought of that damn Winchester and threw a vase at the wall, wincing at the loud shattering it made upon impact. Once the blood had been in his system, Crowley had been hooked and he went out of his way to get his hands on the stuff. Crowley knew that Sam wasn't all to blame for his addiction because it was all him that went out of look for more blood after the trials had been skidded to a halt. Crowley, under stress from Abaddon's little anarchic rebellion against the monarch, needed an escape and he found it via the injection of human blood.

The rational, demon part of Crowley knew that he did not need the blood because he was bloody Crowley, King of Hell, he built his entire kingdom on the ugly, raw emotion of abandonment that Fergus McLeod harbored to the day his soul was corrupted. Crowley had no need to become human because frankly, humans were all pitiful creatures. But addiction was a disease, a human disease by no means, that numbed all the senses and all rational thought. Crowley needed blood in order to feel something, to escape from his hellish world because it was a matter of time before that bitch Abaddon would come in and ruin everything he worked and manipulated for.

Suicide of love took away all that matters

And buried the remains in an unmarked grave in your heart

Even in these incredibly vulnerable moments, Crowley's mind always drifted towards to what he considered his true weakness; a beautiful young woman by the name of Y/N. Her beauty alone could start wars and break the hearts of men. She had an unusually round face that was fair, her eyes were not brown, not hazel, but a soft golden hue that almost resembled the color of his beloved Craig and the soft color of the sun at the breaking of dawn. Her lips were plump and always drenched in bloody red lipsticks that absolutely drove Crowley wild, and not to mention that her figure was incredibly curvy, as if she were carved by the divine. Crowley always thought of her, especially during the times he would shoot up. Y/N, despite her hunter status and her close companionship with the dim-witted Winchesters, was quite fond of the King. They have spent many nights drinking and talking of philosophy and secret matters of the heart. Maybe it was the moon and the wine or a combination of both laced with the effects of his addiction that made Crowley writhe in passion and unrequited want. Crowley would often spend hours alone in his throne room thinking of her and the many delectable ways he could make love to her. When the first initial thought of making love, not fucking, came to his mind, Crowley had to go torture a soul for hours just to clear his head. But despite how hard he tried to deny these foreign feelings, he couldn't help but indulge in them, just as much as he indulged in human blood.

With the venomous kiss you gave me

I'm killing loneliness (Killing loneliness)

Crowley began to feel his vessel's heartrate accelerate and sweat began to form at his brow and tears were threatening to fall from his swollen crimson eyes. Crowley knew this was a sign that he had too much today and began to pace nervously, growing angrier and sadder by the moment. His mind constantly drifting between problems with Abaddon and the soft spoken Y/N. He wanted her here so he could fall into her embrace, he wanted to bury his face in the safe haven of her soft, amble breasts and cry this bloody stint out of him. But most of all, he wanted to kiss her and cherish her, he needed her, perhaps more so than the blood. Crowley would give it all up if she would be his.

But there was a paradox to his desire. As a demon, he shouldn't have the capability of emotion and attachment and since he was injecting blood into his system like a damned junkie, such emotions were becoming apparent. But Crowley, despite the immeasurable amount of pain this addiction causes him, couldn't and wouldn't give it up if it meant that he could not feel this passion for Y/N. Crowley felt his anger rising and he began to throw anything in the nearest vicinity. He, like the now destroyed vase and torn up furniture scattered on the floor, was broken. He was weak and was definitely not the King he was six months prior. As hot tears fell and anger continued to rise and became laced with his sadness, Crowley collapsed onto the floor, not caring about the glass piercing into his skin, after all, he was only using a vessel whose soul was long gone, why should he care about what happens to it now after many centuries together?

"Maybe," he began to muse through the occasional sob, "it's time to accept my fate…"

"No, you shouldn't," a soft voice called from the other side of the room, a voice that will always pull on Crowley's heartstrings.

"Y/N….darling…." He whispered, in a voice that he could not even recognize as his own. He felt so weak and was on the floor, a broken mess, hooked on the warmth of human blood that held so much danger to his being and position as King of Hell. He looked at her and saw her approach him ever so cautiously, as if she was afraid that she might get hurt. But of course, the truth was, Crowley could never bear to hurt her, she was the only human that he ever really admired. But he could understand her hesitation because she was only aware of his addiction, she never saw him in this desolate state until now.

She crouched beside him, her body inches away from his and Crowley had to resist the urge of pulling her into his embrace. He barely looked at her, giving her sideway glances filled with shame, a characteristic that was never existed in Crowley before. Y/N felt her heart ache for this broken king. She felt a connection with him that she never really had with any man, Winchesters included. Crowley made her feel safe, despite knowing what he was and what he did. Crowley, in all his faults and amorality, was someone Y/N trusted and she never really trusted anyone. She felt that, despite his hellish nature, his intentions were never truly bad nor good; they were simply Crowley's. What the Winchesters didn't understand was that Crowley was a being who played by his own rules in order to meet his own needs, but often times his actions benefitted those around him. He wasn't evil nor was he good, he was simply amoral. And that is what she loved about him most.

"Crowley, why? Why inject all of this blood?" She finally asked, hating the way her voice had a slight tremble, she didn't want to give away her feelings for him because she knew that the feelings he could have were nothing more than a side effect of his self-destructive habits.

For a few minutes, Crowley could neither answer nor look at her because he was scorched by his shame and guilt, but with a deep breath he looked up and turned to face her and was shocked to see her beautiful golden eyes filled with tears threatening to fall and he hated himself all the more.

"Because, love, I have nothing…"

"Oh, Crowley, you know that's not true, you have me…." Her voice was getting shakier by the minute and she hated herself for it.

"Do I truly have you, darling? Do I truly have you? I mean, in case you haven't noticed, I am a bloody demon. A bloody fucking demon who is not only going to lose his position as king to a time-traveling bitch, but lose the one damn good thing he had in this world: his lack of soul and emotions. Dammit, I blame all of this on Moose, but I also blame myself because….because I wanted to see if I could feel again because….." He took a pause, unsure if he should say it and of course that scared him all the more because Crowley was never unsure because, after all, he was bloody Crowley, but he decided to continue, despite himself, "because of you, pet."

Y/N was stunned, a deep crimson heat was beginning to set on her cheeks. Perhaps he does have feelings for me, she thought, feelings not caused by the blood? But how?

"M…Me?" She squeaked out, ashamed of her sudden shyness, she was never this shy around the King but she never thought she'd ever see him in such a state and that made her cautious.

"Yes, love, that is what I said. You, my dear, have a profound effect on men, you really should be more careful," he chuckled sadly but continued, "Y/N, you must understand that what I feel for you, are not because of this ghastly addiction, I actually felt a great deal of affection when I first met you all those years ago with those bloody denim wrapped nightmares and I..I was confused and angry, naturally, because how can I, a bloody demon, feel such a great deal about a human woman, but eventually I kind of accepted it because honestly, you're so heartbreakingly beautiful that I swear every time I see you, I can feel the ache deep in my bones. Deary, you make me feel alive again and when I started to binge on the blood, it intensified my affections and brought out new emotions that I haven't felt in centuries: insecurity, doubt and self-deprecation. I guess what I am saying, doll, is that I…I... love you…."

Following was a dreadful anxious silence that made Crowley instantly regret saying anything. But observing Y/N, he noticed a shy smile cross her dark burgundy lips and the crimson blush settling darker on her porcelain cheeks and Crowley couldn't help but sigh a sigh of relief.

"Oh, Crowley, you are such a sentimental fool. I love you too, you darling man. I loved you the moment we first sat down together and just talked into the night. I loved you and I was afraid because I knew you were a demon and demons could not love, only break your heart and laugh a wicked laugh. Crowley, I felt so stupid for loving you because I would become overcome with this…passion, I wanted to be in your arms, dreamt of you loving me everywhere, having me whenever and whenever, and now hearing this, I couldn't be any happier, but when you went on this self-destructive binge, my heart broke and it still aches because you are stronger than this, you are the bloody King of Hell, and you should not let what Sam did affect you this much, I just want my Crowley back…" She confessed, her cheeks turning more crimson by the minute, her eyes glazing with tears and lips trembling, she felt a huge weight lifted off her and Crowley sat there for a moment, stunned by her confession and he looked down at the needle still in his hand, and he knew he had to make a choice.

So he threw the syringe across the room, it made a slight clank as it collided with the door, but it didn't matter to Crowley and he grabbed Y/N and pressed his lips hard against her, kissing her so passionately, she felt her breath being taken away and she reciprocated back with the same intensity. When they finally broke apart, Crowley collapsed onto her breast, hiding his face and breathing his Y/N in, her scent so familiar, she smelt of vanilla and roses and he couldn't complain. Y/N wrapped her arms around the King and felt the tears fall, her body overcome with so much emotion that it trembled and shook. Only then Crowley looked up from his position and felt an ache stab through him.

"Darling, please don't cry…please," with his thumb he wiped the tears away, "I am so sorry for hurting you, please, I will do anything to finally kick this….please. No more tears," and he took her into his arms.

"I'm just so happy Crowley, so so happy. It is my hope that I can help save you from this…" Crowley smiled and pressed her tighter against him and whispered into her hair, "But you already have, being in your arms was enough….I love you, kitten…"

"And I you, my king."

With the warmth of your arms you saved me,

Oh, I'm killing loneliness with you

I'm killing loneliness that turned my heart into a tomb

I'm killing loneliness


End file.
